


Your Life Isn't Yours to Take

by Leadams03



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Depressed Sam Winchester, Depressing Thoughts, Gen, Please Don't Hate Me, Suicidal Sam Winchester, Suicidal Thoughts, but honestly if you read it you figure out who it is, i swear if this shows up tomorrow when im looking for depressing shit on ao3 im gonna laugh, idk if this is ooc or not, jack is such a cutey though im so excited, ok please enjoy this but don't hate me too much idk what im doing, there's a mysterious voice, though i havent seen 13 so ig this works idk though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-16
Updated: 2018-09-16
Packaged: 2019-07-12 23:53:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16005914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leadams03/pseuds/Leadams03
Summary: Sam never wanted to die. He just wanted to start living.





	Your Life Isn't Yours to Take

**Author's Note:**

> Ok so this is the first time I've written a fanfiction on any website since 2016/maybe 2017 so please don't judge me. As for setting, it's not well stated so basically Sam is seventeen and is in a dark alleyway that's abandoned. 
> 
> If you are easily triggered, please don't read this. 
> 
> I just have had a really bad past few weeks so this is what I wrote to try to not relapse before my year mark of being clean. I don't know, but I really hope this works.

Sam held the gun up to his head, his hand shaking. He couldn't do it anymore. He couldn't stand the stares, the thoughts, and the words. 

He was a freak, and he didn't anyone to ever tell him anything different. 

Hell, he couldn't even blame the one event that had caused all of this. 

How could he say that he became a freak when his mother died, though he didn't even know her? When he should love her, though all he could do was follow his father around on his quest for revenge. He felt like he should feel some sort of sadness, but all he felt was dread that this is what his life was made to become.

Sam shut his eyes and tried to control his breathing, though he was unable to.

He should've been better. A better hunter. A better soldier. A better son. A better brother. A better everything.

All he had wanted was to be able to walk around without feeling guilty for not missing someone he never knew. 

He wanted to scream. He wanted to ask them why, why did they blame him for not knowing someone? Why did they blame him for not wanting to live his life on the road? Why did they hate him for not being able to foolishly follow their blinded quest for revenge?

Sam's hand trembled as he struggled to keep the gun up to his head. Everything inside of him wanted to drop the gun and run to his brother, but he wasn't that boy anymore.

And he will never be that boy again.

If anyone had bothered to ask him what he had wanted to do with his life, his answer would've been the same at any point of his life. Even now it remained the same, though it seemed to foolish to wish for something that he would never ever achieve.

He had always wanted to be a lawyer. Eventually, he wanted to get to the point of being a judge, but he knew that it would be a while until he got there. He wanted to work with children, and hopefully get them out of growing up like him.

'You know, you can't do that if you're dead.' A voice called out in his mind. 

Sam froze and immediately took the gun away from his head and scanned the room, ready to fight.

'You can't see me.' The voice said again.

"Who are you?" Sam spoke out.

'I can't tell you..." It trailed off.

"Where the hell are you?" Sam stated, turning around and scanning the alleyway. Not his ideal place to take his own life, but if the boot fits.

'Very far away. And also from the future so don't even try to kill me because you can't.' The voice stated again. Sam recognized it as a middle-aged man, but he wasn't completely sure.

"Why are you talking to me?" The seventeen-year-old spoke out.

'That's none of your current business. Wait a few years kid.' The voice laughed.

"Leave me alone," Sam stated.

'Now why would I do that?' The voice mocked. 

Sam shook his head, trying to get the voice out of his head.

"Just go, leave me to die," Sam sat down, broken.

'I'll only go if you agree to not kill yourself.' He stated.

Sam's eyes narrowed with confusion.

"What's it to you?" Sam chuckled sadly.

'What's it to you?' The voice asked.

"It's my life, I can do whatever the hell I want to it," Sam spouted angrily, frustrated.

'But that's not necessarily true, is it?' The voice stated. 

Sam didn't answer.

'You know that you won't be the one hurt if you do this. It'll be your brother, your father, all the people you killed, all the wayward children you could help in the future.' The voice faded off at the last bit.

"What... What do you mean by that?" Sam asked.

'You could help so many people, important people, in the future if you only just tried.' He was somber now.

"Who did you lose?" Sam asked suddenly.

'Excuse me?' The voice asked.

"The only people who talk like that are those who have lost something. So tell me, who did you lose?" Sam explained.

'The only thing I lost was my life kid.' The voice huffed.

"First of all, that's not possible. Second of all, that doesn't explain a single thing about this conversation," Sam rolled his eyes.

'You'd understand it if you didn't kill yourself.' 

Sam scoffed.

"Well that's not happening, so get talking," Sam stated.

'Tell me something first. If you're so adamant about killing yourself, why did you stop to have this conversation in the first place?' The voice stated.

Sam looked down.

'I can wait for you to answer.'

"I guess I just didn't want to be completely alone," He sighed.

'Sam, you've never been alone.' 

"Oh yeah really? Then where is everyone now, huh?" Sam growled.

'I'm right here.' He whispered.

"You're not even real, so fuck off," Sam said.

'I'm real.'

"Oh really? Because just a minute ago you were saying that you were a dead guy from the future that won't tell me what the hell you want from me!" Sam yelled.

'You saved my son.'

Sam froze.

"What?" He muttered.

'You saved my son.' The voice almost broke.

"From what?" Sam muttered out.

'From me, and I thank you every day for it.' 

Sam sat there, speechless.

'Sam, you're only seventeen, but you're going to be incredible. Don't give up now. Send that damn admissions letter to Stanford. You have a chance.' 

Sam didn't say anything, just staring at the hand holding the gun.

'I have to go. I'm dying Sam, and I'm so sorry for everything I've done.' The voice faded out.

Sam stared.

He threw the gun at the floor and got up.

He had too much shit to do to be sitting there considering killing himself when he had less than a year left.


End file.
